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I don’t remember much after I fell into the ocean. I must have gone unconscious. And Enzo must have brought me back to life, only to wipe his hands of me.
I can’t survive.
Enzo knew I would be dead before my body washed up on the shore.
I know how to float in the water, but I won’t be able to with my body shivering like it is.
I’m miles away from shore, much too far to swim.
And it’s too dark for other boats to find me except by pure luck. I’m more likely to get run over than found.
No, I’ll drown or freeze by morning. I’m too skinny to survive in this cool of water.
If I’m lucky, a shark will find me and give me a quick death. But that’s unlikely.
Fuck you, Enzo.
Fuck your evil grin.
Fuck your delicious mouth.
Fuck your masculine cologne.
Fuck your dirty, filthy mind.
Fuck your ability to make me trust you and want you, even though I knew I should never believe the devil.
I feel a cool plastic bump into me from behind.
I turn around slowly, not sure what has touched me.
A lifesaver floats amply behind me.
I eye it suspiciously for a second before throwing my body on it and clinging to it.
Life.
I choose life.
“Fuck you, Enzo!” I shout into the night, even though I know he was the one who left this lifesaver.
He wanted me to live, and he gave me all the help me could without risking his own life.
The waves pick up as does the wind, and I move a good ten feet as one wave pushes me further out to the ocean.
No.
I will not let the ocean take me, not after surviving Enzo. The sea is my friend.
I cling to the lifesaver as I kick hard, trying to move out of the current taking me further away from shore.
Kick.
Kick.
Kick.
I am strong. I can do this.
